Erised
by She's a Star
Summary: After retrieving Ron's Astronomy homework during the middle of the night, he and Hermione stumble upon a very familiar mirror...


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Erised

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by She's a Star

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Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.

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Author's Note: It just came to me, you see. This is for Storm, because I probably wouldn't have finished it had I not been trying to cure her boredom.

*

She knew that this was a bad idea.

"Ron, come _on_," she muttered, clinging to his arm and speeding up a bit as they passed the Bloody Baron. "Can we _please_ go back to Gryffindor Tower? I'm a _Prefect_, I can't very well go wandering about at two in the morning-"

"Sure you can," he responded, giving her an extremely infuriating grin. "If anyone catches us, just say it's Prefects business. Always worked for Percy when he snuck off to snog Penelope."

"Well, we're not sneaking off to snog, Ron!" Hermione exclaimed, then immediately felt her cheeks heat up.

_Oh, wonderful, Hermione. Not obvious at all._

Ron, however, didn't seem to take notice of this comment. "Hermione, don't try to get out of this. I knew that you would."

"I'm _not_!" Hermione said defensively. "I just don't want to be caught and given detention for five months, thank you very much!"

"Hermione, it's in the name of bloody _school_, for crying out loud. I thought you'd be jumping for joy at the prospect of aiding a lost and confused student through their perilous magical studies-"

"Shut up," Hermione hissed crossly. "I'm only doing this because I promised, Ron Weasley, and you know it."

He shrugged. "Whatever. Works for me."

She deliberately stepped on his foot, and he swore under his breath.

_Ha._

Their footsteps echoed softly through the dark, deserted corridor, and though she knew it was silly, she couldn't help but shiver a bit. There was something distinctly unsettling about wandering the castle in the wee hours of the morning with no one but Ron and ghosts for company.

She decided that she definitely preferred Ron.

"Cold?" he asked her softly.

"Hmm?" She pulled out of her reverie. 

"You were shivering," he pointed out.

"Oh," she said, feeling incredibly stupid. Why, why, _why_ did she always have to go all flustered around him?! He was just Ron, for goodness' sake!

"Hang on a minute," he ordered, pausing in the middle of the hall. Hermione stopped and watched him curiously.

"Ron, what are you..."

She fell silent, however, when he proceeded to pull off his maroon sweater. Immediately she felt her cheeks flush crimson.

_IdiotIdiotIdiotIdiot..._

"Here," he said, handing her the sweater and straightening out the abysmally orange Chudley Cannons T-shirt that he wore underneath it.

She smiled at him, ignoring the way-too-fast-to-be-healthy pounding of her heart. "Thanks."

Very tentatively, she pulled the sweater over her head and glanced at Ron. He was watching the Grey Lady as she glided past them. Hermione found herself a bit glad that he wasn't watching her. Sometimes - at times like these - she liked being able to watch him without his knowing it.

They reached the never-ending spiral staircase up toward the Astronomy tower and began to climb it.

"Almost there," Ron commented. "Your noble quest to assist me in finding my orbit chart is nearly completed."

"I still don't understand why you needed me to come along," Hermione replied. "You managed to find the Tower on your own."

Voice oddly quiet, he responded, "Hermione, if you didn't want to come, all you had to say is no."

His expression looked almost...dejected for a moment, and she immediately felt guilt well up inside of her.

"No, it's all right," she assured him, trying to sound casual.

Ron grinned at her; that cheeky, custom-designed-to-annoy-her smile that could actually be kind of cute. _If_ she thought of Ron as being cute. Which she didn't.

Or at least, which she pretended not to.

"Well, I s'pose it's good you came," he said. "All the teachers love you. Sinistra hasn't been too fond of me ever since that little mishap in second year."

"Little?" she scoffed. "You knocked over an entire shipment of brand new telescopes."

"I tripped!" he retorted. "It was bloody dark; how was I s'posed to see where I was going?"

Hermione shook her head in disbelief, an amused smile playing around her lips.

"You're insufferable," she informed him.

"Thanks."

They finally reached the end of the stairs and both stared at the door that led to Sinistra's office.

"Well...knock," Hermione said impatiently.

"No way!" Ron retorted. "_You_ knock!"

"It's _your_ orbit chart!"

"_You're_ the teacher's pet!"

"I am _not_ a teacher's pet, Ron! Just because I do all my homework and actually bring it _with_ me after class rather than forgetting it-"

"Oh, don't start with the lecturing, Hermione, you're going to drive me insane-"

"_You_ have to learn to remember everything! I wouldn't have to lecture you if you would just-"

"Just knock on the damn door Hermione!"

"I'm _not_ knocking! _You_ knock-"

"Well, well, well. What have we here?"

Ron and Hermione both fell quiet at once as they looked up into the sallow face of a _very_ unwelcome potions master.

"Good evening, Professor," Hermione said weakly.

"Tut, tut," lectured Snape silkily. "The correct answer would be 'good morning', Miss Granger, or have you lost track of time due to this little..." he sneered, "...rendezvous with Mr. Weasley?" He continued, his black eyes gleaming maliciously. "Who ever would have expected a Gryffindor Prefect to sneak out of bed in the middle of the night to succumb to raging hormones in such a dreadfully _average_ fashion? I, for one, am terribly shocked." Sounding delighted, he finished, "Let's see, shall we? Twenty points from Gryffindor should do it-"

"But we're not-"

"Or would you rather it be thirty, Mr. Weasley?" 

Ron fell silent, glaring daggers at the professor.

Hermione spoke up, her voice trembling a bit. "Please, Professor Snape, you've misunderstood; Ron forgot his orbit chart and it's due next lesson, and-"

"And you had to tag along with Mr. Weasley to ensure he wouldn't get lost?" Snape asked viciously. "How very touching."

"Leave her alone," Ron snapped. Hermione cringed and promptly kicked him in the shins. Of course; this was _so_ like him.

"What was that, Mr. Weasley?" Snape demanded.

"What are _you_ doing up here, anyway?" Ron asked. 

"That is none of your concern," Snape said irritably. "Ten points from Gryffindor for your unbearable nosiness-"

"Oh, Se-ev?"

Ron and Hermione exchanged a look of sheer horror.

"I'm _busy_, Auriga," Snape hissed through clenched teeth. 

Ron began to laugh in disbelief, and Hermione elbowed him in the stomach.

Moments later, Professor Sinistra appeared in the doorway alongside Snape. 

"Hello Ron, Hermione." Professor Sinistra smiled pleasantly. "What can I do for you?"

"I forgot my orbit chart," Ron said, eyeing Professor Sinistra as though she were mentally unstable. "Hermione and I came up here to get it, and _he_ started taking points from our house like mad."

"I'll ask you to disregard those," Sinistra said - Snape glared at her, livid. "It was clearly just a misunderstanding. Ron, I found your orbit chart. I have it on my desk, just one second."

Ron stared after the professor, still apparently questioning her sanity. Hermione looked nervously up at Snape, who looked as though he wanted very much to kill something.

Professor Sinistra returned and handed Ron his chart. "There you are, Ron. I was wondering when you'd come to get that."

"Thanks," Ron said, looking as though he could barely contain his laughter as he glanced back and forth from Snape to Sinistra.

"And I have to apologize again for Severus' _abominable_behavior," continued Sinistra, eyes sparkling mischievously. "He really is _impossible_ to put up with. Good night."

"Er...good night," Hermione repeated.

Sinistra smiled at them, and Hermione could have sworn she gave them a quick wink before swinging the door closed again.

Ron immediately began to run down the stairs, shaking with laughter.

"Ron!" Hermione squealed, setting off after him.

Halfway down the stairs, Ron sat down on a step and dissolved into hysterics. Hermione struggled to hold back her own laughter.

"Ron, get _up_," she ordered, giggles escaping her mouth.

"I can't...bloody...believe it," he gasped in between laughs. "Snape...Sinistra...in the Astronomy Tower...oh, that's _disgusting_!"

"It's...it's not that bad," Hermione said, fighting to keep a straight face. Ron looked up at her skeptically, and against her will, she burst out laughing as well. She sunk down next to him and admitted, "Okay, it _is_ that bad."

"She really saved our asses though," Ron admitted.

"_Ron_," Hermione scolded immediately. He ignored her.

"Gryffindor would've been furious with us if we'd lost forty points all in the name of homework."

"Speaking of Gryffindor," Hermione said, standing up, "We should get back."

"All right," Ron agreed, standing as well. They began to walk, and he continued, "We've already passed Snape. He's a bit...busy," Ron snickered, "So now all we have to worry about is Filch."

Hermione nodded in agreement. To be caught by Filch would be a definite misfortune - the caretaker had been sick lately, and in an especially foul mood. He'd actually scared a couple of first year girls into hysterics earlier that day when they'd dripped mud on the floor, screeching himself hoarse with proclamations that he was going to hang them from their thumbs in the dungeon.

A comfortable silence fell between them, and Hermione absently toyed with the sleeve of the sweater...Ron's sweater. She couldn't see why he complained about them so much - it was really quite a nice sweater: warm, and soft. It was probably the maroon. She didn't really see why he detested maroon so much - it actually did look all right on him. But perhaps she was just a bit biased-

_Oh, stop it!_ she ordered herself. _Stop it! You're just as bad as Parvati and Lavender!_

It was a frightening thought.

Not quite as frightening, though, as the raspy voice that cut through the pleasantly silent air like a knife.

"Hear them footsteps, my sweet? Students out of bed, no doubt. We'll catch 'em. Bring 'em down to Professor Snape for punishing-"

"Good luck on that," Ron muttered sarcastically, then glanced at Hermione in a look that very clearly asked 'well, what do we do now?'

Hermione shrugged her shoulders helplessly - Filch's voice grew louder.

Rolling his eyes, Ron grabbed her arm and dragged her into the closest classroom. The door clicked shut quietly behind them.

"We can't let that git catch us," Ron whispered. "We'll have detention every day 'till seventh year."

Hermione nodded in agreement, and they waited with bated breath as Filch's voice and footsteps grew louder, then softer...softer...barely audible...

"He's gone," Ron declared, moving toward the door.

Hermione made her way over to follow him, absently glancing at the room they'd come inside. She paused abruptly.

"Ron," she whispered.

"What?" he asked distractedly, yawning. "God, I'm tired. Let's go-"

"Is that the mirror?"

"What mirror?" Ron turned around and his eyes fell upon the huge, magnificent golden mirror that had caught Hermione's attention. 

"The Mirror of Erised," he whispered. Silence fell between them, and Hermione somehow knew that he was thinking the same thing she was. 

"Want to take a look?" he asked.

Hermione nodded. "Sure."

Footsteps echoing softly, they made their way over to the mirror.

"D'you want to look first?" he asked.

"No, it's all right," Hermione said softly, suddenly wondering what on earth she would see. What did she want more than anything, more than anything in the world? To be Head Girl? To get the best marks in her year?

Somehow, she doubted it. Those things were important, of course, but they didn't seem to be her heart's deepest desire. They were more like aspirations, things she wanted so she could prove that just because she wasn't pretty didn't mean she was utterly useless. 

But what _did_ she want more than anything?  
She looked over at Ron. He was staring into the mirror, looking utterly transfixed. The tips of his ears had gone red, and he was absently bending his fingers, as though attempting to hold hands with thin air. 

She wanted very badly to ask what he saw, because really when she thought about it, she had no idea what Ron could possibly want. Money, perhaps? She knew that he hated being poor.

But no...it looked as though he could see a person.

_Probably a stunning girlfriend,_ Hermione thought bitterly.

Yes, that was probably it. A beautiful, shallow blonde like Fleur who he could gawk at openly and snog senseless. 

Suddenly, she felt very put out, and she realized with a start that tears had formed in her eyes.

_Oh, _hon_estly, Hermione, don't act so pathetically emotional. You know that he'll never like you. Who would?_

Biting her lip and blinking rapidly so as to stop the detested tears, she stared down at his hand. Whose hand did he want to hold, she wondered, What did he want more than anything?

Very timidly, she asked, "What do you see?"

He looked up at her as though brought out of a trance, and studied her blankly for a moment. The tips of his ears had gone red.

"Nothing," he said at once.

Yes. It was definitely a beautiful girl.

But that was perfectly all right. What had she been expecting him to see? _Herself_?! Honestly.

She walked closer, suddenly dreading to look into the mirror. 

"Are you crying?" he asked.

She felt her cheeks heat up immediately. Oh dear.

"No," she replied at once. "Just...it's just dusty."

He studied her awkwardly, seeming thoroughly unconvinced. "Okay..."

Taking a deep breath, Hermione stepped in front of the mirror. Nothing seemed to change. There was herself at one end, and Ron at the other.

_What_? she thought in confusion. Perhaps she didn't want _anything_, but that seemed an incredibly strange possibility. Surely she had to want _something_!

And then, very slowly, Ron walked over to her. 

She didn't hear his footsteps echoing.

And she knew.

The Ron in the mirror stopped and looked at her for a moment with something in his brown eyes that she couldn't explain. Very tentatively, he raised one hand and lightly brushed his fingers against her cheek.

"You're beautiful," he whispered, "You know that?"

Hermione felt the tears that had welled up in her eyes start to fall, and she wanted to tear herself away. Ron was watching, no doubt, wondering why she was standing in front of the mirror and sobbing. 

And yet she couldn't move.

Her heart seemed to ache as she watched. He looked just like Ron, with his sparkling eyes and red hair and long nose. He even..._felt_ like Ron, for some reason - he gave out the same sort of vibe that Ron did. 

But he wasn't.

"I love you, Hermione," he continued. 

"Stop it," she whispered, her voice trembling. Inside the looking glass she could see her own reflection, looking miserable with tears spilling down her cheeks. 

"Hermione?"

She tore her gaze away from the mirror to find Ron staring at her in concern.

"What's wrong?" he asked softly, taking a few steps toward her.

It hurt to see him now. This was Ron Weasley, her idiotic, funny, sweet, insufferable best friend, and that was all he'd ever be. Her best friend. And she simply had to deal with it. He would never tell her that she was beautiful, he would never love her. Not like that.

And she had to stop being so utterly stupid about it.

"Nothing," she said, wiping her wet cheeks with her sleeve. Ron's sleeve, Ron's sweater. The thought made her begin to cry even harder, and she looked up to see him studying her in alarm.

"Hermione, what's _wrong_?!" he demanded, coming over to her.

"Nothing," she repeated, a sob escaping her throat.

This was terrible. Humiliating. There were no _words_ to describe how utterly terrible this was.

"What did you see?" Ron asked. "Whatever it is, you shouldn't be forced to want something that makes you act....like that."

He was so clueless.

So completely clueless.

"Oh, Ron," she mumbled, staring at the floor as she tried unsuccessfully to stop her tears.

"Hey," Ron said, his voice soft and oddly soothing. "Hermione, it's all right."

A bit awkwardly, he wrapped his arms around her in a hug. This, of course, caused her to cry even harder, and she wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in his chest. She could feel his fingers brushing against her hair. 

"Why do you have to be so perfect?" she muttered, then realized with horror that she'd said it aloud.

"Perfect?" Ron repeated, sounding utterly bewildered. "Hermione, have you gone insane? I think we both know who the perfect one is here."

"I'm not _perfect_," Hermione protested, sniffling audibly. "I just study too much. I'm not funny or charming or pretty or..."

"Hermione, don't," Ron ordered. "Shh...calm down. You're fine. You _are_ funny and charming and..." he paused for a moment. "Pretty."

"Not like Fleur."

_Goodness_! Why did all these nonsense words keep escaping her mouth without her brain's consent?!?

"Hermione," said Ron weakly, "Fleur isn't all that great."

"_She's_ perfect," Hermione sniffled.

"She's a snob," Ron retorted. "And you...I don't know. You can sort of see it in her face, you know?"

Hermione nodded weakly. "I suppose."

"I s'pose we should head back to Gryffindor now," Ron said quietly. "It's got to be nearly three by now, and we've got classes tomorrow."

"All right," said Hermione, sniffling and pulling away from him. She forced a weak smile. 

They silently left the room and walked down the corridor toward Gryffindor Tower. Hermione couldn't help but feel absolutely disgusted with herself - of course when she had complete emotional breakdowns, it always had to be with _Ron_. She would have been able to handle it with Harry, but _Ron_...

But suddenly it didn't seem so bad. He'd said that she was funny, and charming, and...pretty. Sure, he was probably just saying it to make her feel better, but it really was quite all right, because it _had_ made her feel better. It was true that it was no _"You're beautiful"_ or _"I love you"_, but it had been nice all the same.

Quite nice indeed.

"So," Ron's voice broke the silence. "What did you see?"

"I...I was Head Girl," Hermione replied, knowing that he wouldn't buy it for a second. Luckily, he didn't press the subject. "You?"

"I won a lifetime supply of Fizzing Whizbees," Ron said easily, but she knew that he wasn't telling the truth either.

"Oh," she said simply.

And they walked back in a nice sort of silence.

END

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Author's Note II: Eeep - Hermione had a bit of an emotional breakdown there, eh? I didn't mean for that to happen, honest! I just wanted a tear or two! Ah well. :-) 


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